


Demons in my Head

by FanaticShipper07, Mentally_Unstable



Series: Not-So-Divine Intervention [3]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012), Constantine (TV), DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), Hellblazer & Related Fandoms, The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: #GiveMickArson2021, (or just everyone), Angst, Bisexual John Constantine, Blackmail, Breaking and Entering, Cigarettes, ColdBlazer, Demonic Possession, Exorcisms, Flirty Lisa Snart, Gay Leonard Snart, Is Barry Allen still dead? Who knows, John has daddY iSsUes-, John needs a BREAK, John’s only weakness, John’s type is just ~Snart~, Len is a good brother, Lewis Snart’s A+ Naming Skills, Lewis' A+ Parenting, M/M, Magic, Mick wants arson, Minor Gun Violence, No bants ;(, No offense to any mertles out there, Physical Abuse, Protective Lisa Snart, Self-Sacrificial Leonard Snart, Thomas' A+ parenting, Threatening, Trespassing, Worried John Constantine, bondage but not the kinky kind, exorcist finally does an exorcism, john relies on sheer luck, keeping secrets, len has daddy issuEs-, mERTLE - Freeform, mentions of abuse, physical injury, salt circle, synchronicity wave travelling, they need therapy, whoops it's sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-18 13:28:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29369277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FanaticShipper07/pseuds/FanaticShipper07, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mentally_Unstable/pseuds/Mentally_Unstable
Summary: Constantine went to Central City looking for trouble but found more than he bargained for...
Relationships: John Constantine/Leonard Snart
Series: Not-So-Divine Intervention [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1906723
Comments: 7
Kudos: 21





	Demons in my Head

Constantine flicked the ash from the end of his cigarette, continuing along the somewhat familiar path before him. The city seemed awfully quiet for the trouble the exorcist knew was brewing, but he had learned long ago not to be deceived by appearances.

He had been scrying, making a list of locations to make pit stops in, when Central City had come up. Naturally, a big city like that was bound to have a few nasties every now and then, but the last time Constantine had visited… he had made an acquaintance. The villain hadn’t called, so the exorcist had taken care of the more pressing issues first before making his way back to Central City.

With only one contact in a city, it only made sense to drop by the bar where he had met Leonard in the first place. Pushing open the door, Constantine looked around, even reaching out with a tendril of magic in order to locate the other. Unfortunately, he wasn’t in.

There was a group standing in the corner of the room, gathered around a circular table before they took notice of him. A brunette eventually turned on her heel and started to walk toward him, a semi-flirtatious look on her face as she started slowly, “Sorry, the bar is _closed_ right now, but maybe for a pretty face like yours I can make an exception. What are you here for?”

“Looking for a certain fellow. I’m sure you’re familiar,” he answered, recognising the woman from the last time he had been to Central City. “Does _Snart_ ring any bells for you, love?”

Her demeanor immediately changed at the name, her head tilting to the side in question, _“Lenny..?_ Yeah, he’s my brother. What about him?”

Constantine raised an eyebrow, “I’m looking for him.”

The woman’s face dropped, a sigh escaping from her stained lips, “I don’t know where he is.”

“He’s your brother. And he lives here,” the exorcist stated slowly.

“Lenny has a mind of his _own,_ okay? He doesn’t tell me anything,” she defended, glancing back at the corner of the room. “We’re trying to find him. Typically he says to start looking for him after a month of him being gone, but since our dad is out of jail again, I thought it would be best to look _sooner._ Do you need him for something..?”

He took note of the strange coincidence in timing, but didn’t comment on it, “Just a social call. Suppose I’ll just have to wait.”

The brunette smirked knowingly at his words, the resemblance between the two siblings undeniable, “A _‘social call’, huh?”_

“I owe him a favour,” he offered with a shrug, not bothering to correct her assumption.

She opened her mouth for another retort before a taller man in a long coat approached, eyes wide with recognition as he stated gruffly, “You’re the guy with the _fire.”_

Constantine let out a short laugh, lighting up his palm before extinguishing it, “The one and only.”

Mick grunted in approval, a hand moving to rest on his heat gun, “Snart also mentioned that you had a great-”

The woman interrupted him easily, patting the taller man on the back, “Lenny said that was off the record, Mick. It’s best not to _share~”_

“Keeping secrets, are we?” he asked, not really looking for an answer. Whatever the villain had said, he’d prefer not to know.

“As acting leader of our _group,”_ the pyromaniac started, looking down at the brunette beside him, “I say that blondie is in this group and he now gets to know our _shit.”_

“You aren’t the acting leader of _shit. I’m_ his sister, so _I’m_ the leader. Everyone agreed on that,” she denied, crossing her arms over her chest. “Besides, you just like him because he catches on fire. That is the only thing you know about him, Micky.”

Another grunt, “It’s badass.”

The demonologist cleared his throat, raising a hand to stop them, “No need to argue over me, I don’t want to be in the club anyway.”

“You only want Lenny, then?” she asked, sending a wink in his direction before deciding to get down to business. “I wouldn’t suggest waiting for him for a ‘social call’. He’s… nowhere to be found right now, which typically means that he doesn’t want to be. We could give you a call when he’s back, if you want.”

“I’ve got other business in the city, maybe he’ll be back before I leave,” he shrugged, keeping his cards close to his chest.

“If you say so,” the woman dismissed, grabbing Mick’s burly arm before dragging him toward the table with the man simply turning his head to stare at John for an extra few moments.

John watched the pair for another moment before leaving the bar, knowing he wouldn’t find the information he was looking for within its walls. Instead, he walked along the pavement, waiting for something to happen. The result wasn’t always in his favour, but he always found the trouble he had been looking for.

Supernatural trouble in Central City at the same time that the thief was missing was too unfortunate to be a coincidence - as it usually was. Something was going to take place, but until it happened, Constantine would just have to wait it out.

* * *

  
  


The day Lewis Snart walked back into his life was a day he would rather forget. It was a cold day in Central City, snow just starting to stick to the ground. He was the only one in the bar since it was so early, the sun just beginning to pass through the window when he heard a chime come from the front door. Based on how the person came in through the front door, Leonard knew that it must have been someone who wasn’t in the Rogues which brought his guard up. Though, in the end, nothing would have prepared him to see that face again.

Lewis was standing at the other end of the bar, sitting down at it as if he owned the place. He turned away from him to instead polish another already-pristine scotch glass, the thought of looking at that man’s face right now being far less preferable. His father started to speak to him anyway, in a low voice so that nobody else would hear. Lewis spoke of a deal he made with a demon, and despite it sounding like the most absurd thing in the world, Leonard couldn’t help but believe it after what he had experienced the last few months. Despite how often his father had lied to him over the years, he knew that that pea-sized brain would never come up with something _this_ ridiculous. 

Once Lewis had placed down several photos on the bar counter and mentioned how he would get the demon to attack Lisa if he didn’t go with him, Leonard knew that he couldn’t do much _but_ go with him. The thought of calling Constantine came to mind, though he had immediately scratched it out; Lisa’s life was far too valuable for him to just simply toss it away without a plan in mind. 

The deal Lewis had made with a demon was what he would believe was the usual type: a trade for a longer life and a greater fortune than the user already had. It sounded exactly like what the man would ask for, though what he paid in exchange for it was one that he wasn’t expecting. His father wasn’t the brightest man, nor did he have common sense in any way, but the decision to trade a vessel instead of his soul was something Leonard did not see coming, _nor_ the decision of making his very own son the vessel instead of himself. It was a logical move, he could give him credit for that at the very least, but it was a decision that would affect him a little too much.

_Especially_ since magic and the dark arts were not his expertise.

Which, thus, brought him here in an old safe house just on the outskirts of the city. Most of the building was broken down and rusted over, with only a few spare rooms that stayed in semi-good shape. He, supposedly, had to stay there until the full possession took place and when Lewis’ end of the deal was fulfilled, which simply left him to spend the few days of his regular humanity remaining with the very man he hated most.

Sitting in a chair in a room as far away as he could get from Lewis, the villain rested his elbows on his knees. Releasing a sigh from his lips as he rubbed at his eyes tiredly, he let himself succumb to the silence around him.

_He’s bluffing. You could kill him and be rid of him for good._

His eyes opened up slowly at the comment. Despite that thought not being _uncommon_ for him, for it to pop up so suddenly without any other thought around it was definitely not normal for him.

_Or you could call John and ask for a favor._

Shaking his head lightly at that thought, Leonard stood up from his spot on the half-broken chair. He _knew_ he couldn’t ask him to repay that favor, Lisa’s life _depended_ on doing whatever the hell Lewis said. He couldn’t risk her life just to see the blond again.

_If there actually is a demon, John would take care of it._

He whispered a quiet _‘stop’_ to himself, moving over toward his cold gun on the table to tinker on it instead. That would be better than listening to his sudden intrusive thoughts, at least.

_You’re just letting him walk all over you._

Rolling his eyes at the thought, he popped open the side of the cold gun, opting to try to upgrade the weapon with his extended free time. He knew full well that he never let people walk over him unless he _had_ to; this was most definitely one of those times.

_That’s just an excuse. How long are you going to be a coward? You should be protecting her, not listening to him._

He said a quick internal _‘shut up’_ at the abnormal thing in his head, now deeming it as something that wasn’t _quite_ him.

_Are you planning on just bending to his will forever? That’s pathetic._

He huffed loudly, picking a screwdriver from off the table before he decided to talk back. _Isn’t that what you do? Do shit for humans so that you get shit out of it? We’re doing the same exact shit._

The voice that was not quite his own laughed, _There’s a difference between us: I always get the better end of the deal._

_That’s where you’re wrong. If I could get my dad off my sister’s back for the rest of her life, that is the better deal. I don’t give a shit about myself._

_He’s never going to leave her alone,_ the voice taunted, _and I’m never going to leave you alone either._

Leonard placed the tool down with a small slam, _Shut up. Don’t you have better things to do other than harassing me?_

_I’m building our friendship, since we’ll be together for quite a while, Leonard._

_There is no need for you to do it now,_ the thief deflected cooly, picking up a smaller screwdriver to use in place of the other one. _As you said, we will be together for a while. I think that means we will have_ plenty _of time to get well-acquainted._

_That may be true,_ the voice acquiesced, _but I want to have my fun while you still have fire in you. Soon enough, you’ll only be a shell._

The villain hummed lowly as he closed the small compartment in his gun, deciding that with the sudden intrusion of his head that it wasn’t the brightest idea to try to work on it. _Break me later, then. I_ know _that I won’t be broken as fast as you believe I will be._

The voice gave another laugh, taunting, _We’ll see about that. Are you sure you don’t want to call your_ lover? _You must miss him oh-so-much._

_I don’t have a lover. I’m not the type to miss anybody._

_You could have fooled me. I can see inside your head, I know everything there is to know about you._

_You’re_ reaching. _Try to pick a topic that would_ actually _get me worked up like how you want me to be._

_Don’t worry, Leonard,_ the demon assured, _this is only the beginning._

* * *

  
  


It took Constantine a little longer to find the building than he would have liked, but the last time he had visited, he had bypassed the directions entirely by teleporting. The door had been locked, but a small flick of his wrist had it open, though the inside was hardly inviting.

It appeared as if nobody had been inside the building in a while, everything in its place but left unused. That alone wasn’t what set his nerves on edge, but rather the unsettling energy coming from the opened doorway. He shoved his hands deeper into his coat pockets before stepping forward, crossing the threshold with a shiver along his spine. Something much darker than a few apparitions had passed through here since Constantine had last seen it, but he would need a closer look to determine anything more than that.

Flicking on the main lights, the exorcist scanned the visible areas without touching anything aside from the lightswitch. The longer he looked, the more likely he was to find something of use, so he would be damned if he messed with the clues before he had even found them. Walking around the furniture, he followed his instinct toward another darkened room, the disconcerting aura increasing with every step forward. Whatever was at the end of the trail had to be the origin of the dark magic, or at least closely connected to the source.

Constantine closed the gap between himself and the unobstructed doorway, reaching his hand into the darkness to snag the lightswitch after a few failed attempts. The overhead light flickered to life, revealing a bedroom that the demonologist hadn’t seen the last time he had been here, though he had been in a hurry before. Despite the overall plainness of the room, a king-sized bed took up a large portion of the space. Tucked into the corners were a workbench and a desk, a pair of goggles and what appeared to be a handful of printed out photos caught his attention. 

Stepping toward the workbench that was still cluttered with tools, the demonologist picked up the pair of goggles, unconcerned with the potential consequences. He recognised them, if only vaguely: they were Len’s. If this was the thief’s room, then the situation was likely as bad as he had hoped it wasn’t. Constantine set the goggles back down, instead moving to the desk to investigate the photographs. The angles and slight blurriness suggested a candid photo, the subject being the woman from the bar, Leonard’s sister. Though he wasn’t an expert in photography, even the exorcist could tell the images laid out on the desk were of the stalking variety. And as the villain wouldn’t be taking those photos, they must have been _given_ to him.

Constantine moved to place the pictures back on the desktop when the bottom photo slipped from his grasp, landing on the floor face-down. He narrowed his eyes as he noticed a scrawled writing on the back of the photo, kneeling down to retrieve the fallen object.

“Mertle?” he read outloud, looking at the photograph of the woman again with confusion. While it could be the woman’s name, he somehow doubted that. She certainly didn’t _seem_ like a Mertle, though he hadn’t the foggiest idea what the parents in that family were apt to name children. Tucking the photograph into the pocket of his jacket, Constantine gave the room another once-over. He stepped back into the main room, switching off the light as he did so. The magic he had sensed earlier felt more like an anchor, weighing down on his person rather than pulling him in a specific direction. “Must have picked up the right thing, then,” he muttered to himself, poking through a few other rooms before returning to the exit.

Shutting the door behind him and mumbling a quick locking spell before he was caught trespassing, as he had learned his lesson after the third time, Constantine considered the pieces of information he had. While they were all compelling on their own, they didn’t fit together to form a clear picture, if there was a picture to form at all. What does Leonard’s sister have to do with a demon? And who the hell is _Mertle?_

The exorcist let out a huff of breath, pulling a cigarette from the box in his pocket and lighting it with magic. Returning to the path and pausing for a moment, he decided to walk further away from the center of the city, letting the cracked pavement lead him toward something. As he walked aimlessly, strangely not encountering a single person along the way, he brought the photograph out again. There had to be some type of connection, though Constantine couldn’t fathom it. No self-respecting demon would take a name like that, not that a woman like Len’s sister would either. But if it wasn’t the woman or the demon, there had to be another person involved…

The exorcist stalled his steps after a while, dropping his burnt out cigarette to the pavement and crushing it under his heel. He tipped his head back, taking a look around at his surroundings. The street was still deserted, but the shine of sunlight against a street sign caught his eye.

“Well _bugger me,”_ he sighed, staring at the sign for a long moment before shaking his head. “A bloody _address?_ Really?”

* * *

  
  


It had been more than a week since Leonard started staying at the abandoned warehouse, and to say that the demon, who he now knew as Eisa, made a _home_ in his head would be an understatement. He still had control over his body for the most part, him being able to go about his day however he chose, but sometimes he was compelled into doing just what the demon wanted. It was only ever the small things, though, so he didn’t have _too_ much to complain about.

His father somehow annoyed him much more than Eisa did, which Len somehow expected. Avoiding Lewis was easier said than done in a small warehouse with only a few rooms to wander around in, but he made it work whenever he could. He was _not_ going to spend his last few days as a human with that monster, even if it was at the expense of being with another one.

The villain waltzed into a room mindlessly, not caring for how it was likely that _Eisa_ was pulling the strings in his body, before he scanned the room. It was the entryway to the warehouse, the front doors rusted over both inside and out. Dust floated in the air, it being enough to make his eyes dry by simply being in there for a few moments. All the furniture that used to be there seemed to have been taken away through looting of random trespassers, the sole few still sitting where they were randomly placed being underneath white sheets as if that were going to protect it from collecting dust in _any_ way.

Ripping one of the sheets off what he assumed to be a chair, he folded up the sheet to instead place it on another silhouette of a chair. He let himself sit down on the chair despite the puff of dust that released from it, ignoring at least _some_ of the thoughts that Eisa put into his head until he heard footsteps on the patio. There was a moment of quiet before there were a few short knocks against the door. Tightening his grip on his gun almost instinctively before loosening his grip, Len stood up and stalked toward the closest window. Once he sneakily peered through it and saw the guy he hoped _wasn’t_ behind the door, he eventually went over toward it and opened the door quietly. Eyes looking the blond up and down as if to make sure it was indeed _him,_ the thief glanced back behind him as if to confirm that Lewis was not there before starting quietly, “You shouldn’t be here.”

John raised an eyebrow, “Given the state of the place, suppose I can’t expect much hospitality.”

“Not at the moment, _no,”_ he commented shortly, letting his usual tone slip through. “Why are you here, _John?”_

The demonologist gave him a flat look, “I was hoping not to find you here.”

“Sorry to _disappoint,”_ Leonard said sarcastically, throwing another careful glance over his shoulder as he listened closely to the background noises, “I would have thought you would be _happy_ to see me.”

Constantine gave him a soft glare, “I was tracking a _demon,_ Leonard.”

_“Wow,_ and you decided to stop by to say _hello._ How _thoughtful_ of you, Angel. _Truly_ thoughtful.”

John clenched his jaw, “You know about the demon already. There’s a reason you didn’t tell me about it, but I’m here anyway.”

Closing his eyes for a moment as he released a tight sigh, he eventually opened them up with his usual cold demeanor intact, “I don’t quite want to use up my favor right now, so why don’t you leave this situation be, _hm?”_ he more so stated than asked, making a move to close the door.

“I’m trying to do my job, _mate,”_ the Brit shot back as he shoved his hand between the doorframe and the door.

The villain huffed as he stopped it _just_ shy of jamming the blond’s fingers, “And I’m doing _mine._ I have no need for your services right now, John. Leave it _be.”_

“Leave it _be?_ You can’t be serious,” John complained, seemingly unconcerned about the danger to his hand.

“I am _completely_ serious,” the brunet replied lowly, his face conveying as much.

“Why?” Constantine asked instead, his features showing that he was just as serious.

Leonard opened his mouth to answer him before he was cut off immediately by the man he hadn’t seen come in. Turning his head to see Lewis in all of his _glory,_ his expression changed into a mix of anger and emptiness, his hand gripping at his gun tightly as the other asked, “Who the _hell_ is at the door? Nobody should fucking know that we’re _here.”_

“He’s just a random guy asking for directions,” he lied easily, using his body to at least block the gap the door wasn’t obscuring.

_“Shoot ‘em,_ then. There’s no reason for us to keep him. He’d rat us out to the _police,”_ Lewis ordered, the drunken slur easily heard within his voice, the sheer smell of alcohol reeking off of him.

His eyes only glanced out the door again to look at the blond, the remarks Eisa was making in his head not helping him in any way whatsoever as he mindlessly raised his gun, void of any decision. He stared at the exorcist from his end of the gun, the cloudiness of his mind dissipating after a few moments. The longer he had looked at John, the quicker he realized what his actions had been, making him force his arm down to instead murmur a quiet _'go'_ with a subtle nod to the road.

“The fuck are you _doing?_ I said _shoot,”_ Lewis ordered again, clearly not happy about Leonard’s actions as he stalked further into the room.

“Get out of here, _kid._ Come back at a later time,” he said instead, eyes rolling at the drunkard’s words as he simply tossed his gun to the side.

John’s eyes had widened at the threat of the weapon but they narrowed as he gave the thief a hard look. Rather than say anything, he stepped off the patio and disappeared around a corner.

Closing the door once he figured John wasn’t going to come back anytime soon, he braced for the impact that he will get from behind. Lewis was never happy when he defied his orders, ever since he was a little kid. Luckily, he figured out an excuse to at the very least get out of this with only a few bruises to his skin.

Not flinching as his arm was grabbed harshly, Len could only roll his eyes as Lewis started, “You _idiot,_ don’t you know he can call the fuckin’ cops ‘cause you let him get away? We’re going to have to _move.”_

“He _won’t,”_ he stated shortly, ripping his arm out of the tight grip. “He’s not the _type.”_

“You still caused a _disruption._ Do you _really_ want dear ol’ _Lisa_ to pay for _your_ misbehavior?” Lewis questioned threateningly, hand gripping at the beer bottle in his hand tighter.

“I don’t think that is very _wise,”_ he replied cryptically, not liking how his throat closed up at the threat anyway. “You’re not the only one with _connections.”_

“Who do you know that could _possibly_ save you right now?” the older man asked slowly, anger blaring in his eyes. “You know _nobody.”_

“I know a great exorcist that just arrived in _town,”_ Leonard stated cooly, not trying to give anything away. “You hurt her in _any_ way, and I will call him here and get exorcised,” he stuffed his hands into his pockets before he said tauntingly, “Your deal only works if I’m possessed, _doesn’t it?”_

The silence hung above them for almost an uncomfortable amount of time, the white hot anger brewing in Lewis obvious to anybody who would have cared to look. They both knew that Len had got him, but that did not stop the punch that came flying toward his face, the thief not even _trying_ to stop it for the sake of his sister. Not even when another came.

And another.

_And another._

* * *

  
  


Constantine pushed the familiar door open, pulling a cigarette from behind his ear as he leaned against the wall inside. He had visited the bar the day prior, but he hadn’t realised it would be so central to his little demonic problem; a problem that was shaping up to be a little less _little_ and a lot more demonic. The woman and her arsonist companion were going to be much handier to his cause than he had originally anticipated. Luckily for him, he hadn’t been too much of an arse the last time he had met them - though he oftentimes was.

He knew the woman was connected to the case directly, as the photo threatened to burn a hole in his jacket pocket the longer he left it alone. While the exorcist had never actually caught her name, he figured he would be able to play ‘nice’ enough to get a little information. Especially since Leonard’s friend seemed to idolize the unfortunate demonologist.

There was eventually a presence behind him, the woman from the photo tugging him toward the bar counter from where she and ‘Micky’ were sitting. She raised a glass to her lips as she took a small swig of her drink, asking, “What are you doing back here, blondie~?”

The exorcist raised an eyebrow at the nickname, teasing back, “Happy to see me?”

“I could be more so later tonight~” she winked, not caring for how the pyromaniac rolled his eyes at the comment. “Why are you back?”

“I don’t think I ever got your name, love,” he said instead, hoping it wasn’t too apparent that he was fishing.

She hummed, swirling the liquid in her glass casually, “I don’t think you ever gave yours either. I think that is a fair trade, hm~?”

“It’s John,” he offered with a pointed look, “And yours?”

“Lisa. Lisa Snart,” the brunette introduced, tilting her head directly toward the male beside her, “and he’s Mick, if you don’t remember. Are you going to answer my question, John, or am I going to have to get it out of you through _other_ means~?”

Constantine gave her a once-over, his eyes unfocused enough so as not to really see her. “Normally I’d ask what the _‘hard way’_ entails, but I’m here about your brother.”

Lisa’s mood shifted from flirtatious to something more serious, her back hitting the chair, “What about him? He’s still not around.”

“Don’t _I_ know it?” he huffed to himself, shoving his hands further into his coat pockets. “I’m here about a demon problem. I’m an exorcist.”

“I don’t see how my brother and a demon problem are related. He’s not stupid,” the woman dismissed, eyeing Mick subtly.

The blond pinched his nose, adding a tally to the similarities between the two siblings. “I met your father,” he said instead, “Not the nicest bloke, is he?”

Lisa attempted to mask her facial shift, clearly not an expert in that skill unlike her brother, “No, he isn’t. Did you see him around town or something?”

“Not exactly,” he answered with a shrug, keeping the rest of the encounter to himself for the time being. There was no benefit to laying his cards out on the table if he didn’t get the two on his side first. “Quick question for you, love.”

She raised an eyebrow expectantly, not caring for how Mick was barely paying attention to the conversation. “What is it?”

“You recognise this handiwork at all?” he asked, pulling his hand from his pocket, the incriminating photograph in his hand. He held it out to her, waiting until she took it from his grip to shove his hand back into his pocket.

Staring at it intently for a few moments before shaking her head, she raised her head again to look at him confusedly, “No, I don’t. Where the hell did you get this from?”

“I found it in Len’s room in one of your safe houses,” the exorcist explained shortly. “Thought you might know something about it.”

“It clearly wasn’t his handiwork, that is for sure,” Lisa flipped the photo in her hands to glance at the backside, the street name coming into view. “Lenny has a lot of enemies, so I wouldn’t be surprised that they would give this to him,” a small pause, “You asked about our dad before, didn’t you? Do you think he has something to do with everything?”

“Safe to say you’re willing to lend me a hand, then?” he questioned, just to clarify. He had learned that lesson in the past and he wasn’t about to forget it.

“Anything for Len. I owe him everything, especially if it includes Lewis,” she rolled her eyes, smacking Mick’s bicep as if she were trying to grab his attention before continuing, “He will help too, then. What do you need help with, John?”

He took a few pacing steps before stilling again, “Len’s with your father. Given the photograph, I’d presume you’re the bait?”

“That’s not _surprising,”_ was Mick’s simple input, the pyro drinking more out of his beer bottle, “especially after the _bomb_ incident.”

John blinked, sensing a concerning story, “What incident?”

“My dad put a bomb in my head so that Lenny would do what he wanted. It worked for a little while until we managed to get it out,” Lisa answered nonchalantly, shrugging as if that was a normal thing.

Constantine shook his head, briefly wondering why he was even surprised anymore. Despite the parenting being on par with his own father’s, the story had actually provided a lot of information that would be useful to him. “That answers one question,” the exorcist commented, moreso to himself than the others. The other question had a tentative answer, but he would prefer to be wrong about it. Regardless, he would have to prepare for the worst. “How do you feel about magic, Lisa?”

“With everything that is going on in the world these days, I wouldn’t be surprised that it exists. What about it?”

“For lack of a better phrase,” he started, already sighing at his own words, “I need to cast a spell on you.”

Lisa gave him a skeptic look, “What _kind_ of spell?”

Constantine rubbed the back of his neck, admitting, “Anti-demonic-possession?”

“You think all of this is linked to _demons?”_ the brunette asked, watching him calculatingly before releasing a reluctant sigh. “If you think that would help, then fine. My brother would trust you, so will I.”

“There _is_ a demon,” he corrected, shooting her a flat look. “And it will help.” The demonologist raised a hand, fiddling with the unlit cigarette in his mouth. Anti-possession spells were all-encompassing; if it worked for one demon, it would probably work for another. “After I cast a protection, we can go grab your brother,” he stated, leaving out most of the important details, as he usually did.

Standing from her chair near immediately, Lisa shook her head, “You should have led with that. Do whatever you need to do so we can go.”

Constantine sighed at the woman’s enthusiasm, shutting his eyes for a moment and reaching out with his magic. With a flutter of pages, a few books dropped into the room, falling from the ceiling and landing with loud thunks on the floor. The exorcist cringed, rubbing the back of his neck before moving to retrieve the volumes.

The only reaction John got from the books falling from out of nowhere was Mick staring at it intently before glancing over toward the beer in his hand, the glass bottle immediately being thrown into the trash can as he otherwise dismissed himself with a low grumble about ‘drinking too much.’

The exorcist glanced over the covers, finding that he had mistakenly nicked a few unrelated books from his collection; that was the trouble with teleporting objects over state-lines. Setting the other books aside, John began flipping through the tome containing protection against possession spells. While he hadn’t seen the demon with his own two eyes, he knew it had to be at _least_ moderate in terms of power if it were to harm a living person. Plus the energy he had felt at the abandoned house… He would have to go with a higher-level protection charm just in case. Given how much energy casting that would take and the fact that he hasn’t prepared an exorcism procedure yet, he would have to convince her to hold off on the rescue mission.

Pausing on a page and running his finger along the words, John mumbled them to himself. Strong enough to keep out a competent demon, as long as they didn’t have a title. Would use up a fair bit of energy, but nothing that wouldn’t recover with a few hours rest.

“I’ve got the spell,” he announced, having decided upon the incantation he would use for the situation.

“Do I have to do anything for it?” she asked slowly, crossing her arms over her chest as she shifted her stance.

“Just sit still ‘till I’m through with the incantation, love.”

Nodding lightly before sitting down on the bar stool again, she easily relaxed into it, “Just tell me when you’re done, then.”

Constantine tucked his cigarette back behind his ear, removing his coat and draping it over a nearby chair. Rolling up his dress shirt sleeves, the exorcist held his hands out in front of him, running through the familiar but largely unused words in his head a few more times. Letting out a long breath, the blond began reciting the words, feeling the drain on his energy as his hands began glowing brightly.

Once the unnatural light faded, Constantine retrieved his cigarette, lighting it with his fingertip to save time, “All done.”

“Good,” Lisa replied, jumping off of the stool before grabbing her gold gun from off the table before sending a wink in his direction, “I didn’t know you were that good with your hands~”

John raised his eyebrows, commenting suggestively, “I’ve been told I’m better with my _tongue.”_

“Tell my _brother,_ then. He would be much more interested in that information than _me,”_ she dismissed, glancing over toward the hallway she saw Mick disappear into. “I am going to go grab him, and then we can go do whatever your plan is.”

The demonologist gave a slight smirk, “I already have. But we can’t go today.”

A familiar smirk formed on her face, “Ah, so you’re the _low-stamina_ type, _huh~?”_

Constantine rolled his eyes, “Unless you want a demon getting loose, I’d listen to the _exorcist,_ love.”

“Fine, _fine,”_ Lisa relented, moving toward the hallway anyway, “If you need a place to stay for the night, pick any of the open rooms, then. It would be more convenient if you stay, anyway.”

“If you insist,” he teased, leaning against the bar counter as if he belonged there. Constantine watched the woman until she turned the corner, letting out a puff of smoke as he settled onto a stool at the counter. The protection charm was set in place, but the worst was certainly yet to come. He didn’t want to consider the worst case scenario, but given his track record, it was a very real possibility. The exorcist muttered a curse to himself - Exorcisms were complicated enough without involving emotions.

* * *

  
  


The bones he had broken just over two days ago didn’t stop Eisa from controlling his body just fine, leaving Leonard to watch as if he were behind the scenes. Sometimes he had control, yes, but the demon had it the majority of the time. He wasn’t one to let someone else control what the hell he was doing, Lisa’s constant reminder that he was a ‘control-freak’ only becoming more apparent once he _lost_ it.

The beating he took from a drunken Lewis wasn’t anything _new,_ if only a little harsher than normal. The guy had been locked in jail for months at a time until he escaped it, so of course he had had no other release of his anger until now. His cuts and bruises weren’t anything to be worried about, though his likely broken ribs made every breath he took in _sharper_ than normal. He just had to remind himself that as long as Lisa made it out of all of this okay, that was all he could ever ask for.

Watching as his body perked up as Eisa led them to another room, he didn’t bat an eye when the demon pierced the skin in his forearm again, blood flowing out of it. The symbols that were marking the walls of the run-down warehouse were somewhat similar to what John had placed on his _own_ all those months ago, but Len figured that this time it had more _negative_ connotations. He hoped that the exorcist wouldn’t come again after he sent him away for _Lisa’s_ sake, but he also knew that John would likely have no _issues_ with shit like this.

He _was_ good at what he did, afterall.

Blood ran down his forearm in trails, drops hitting the already dirty white-tiled floor. The sheer amount of runes placed throughout the building was something to be worried about, some rooms having at least five simply scattered about. He hated not knowing what they meant, taking it upon himself to at least memorize them so that he could look it up at a later date if he ever managed to get out of this situation. 

Abandoning the room to instead go to the one where the front door was, they passed by the room that Lewis was helplessly sleeping in. Eisa dug a finger into his wound before placing another sigil on the door, eyes glancing out of the window to see John and two others walking down the sidewalk toward the house. To say his heart lurched at the view of the three of some of the most important people in his life coming toward the house with a _demon_ and his monster of a father would be an understatement. 

Forced to watch as the demon took the cold gun from his side to instead hold it in his hand, Eisa took a few steps back so that he wouldn’t be _immediately_ seen nor attacked if that was going to be their first move.

The exorcist stepped up to the door, knocking a few times, “Anybody home?”

Both Eisa _and_ Len rolled their eyes before approaching the door calculatingly, the demon putting up their best ‘Len’ impression as he opened it up, “I thought I told you not to come back, _John.”_

“You should know by now that I never listen,” the blond replied, raising an eyebrow at the villain’s appearance.

“After I almost _shot_ you, I was hoping you would give _up,”_ Eisa said in Len’s usual drawl, eyes glancing over toward Lisa and Mick before otherwise ignoring them.

Lisa stepped forward, leaning around the exorcist to give her brother a flat look, “And _I_ was hoping you’d bring your ass back home by now. Guess we’re all disappointed, Lenny.”

“No can _do,”_ was the easy dismissal, shifting in their position. “Dear old _dad_ and I have to make up for some lost time.”

She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, “So I’ve heard. Do you want to first punch or do I get the honor?”

“After I finish getting what I want from him, you’ll be the _first_ person I call, Lisa,” the demon answered, tilting the cold gun so that the barrel would rest on his shoulder.

“What you _want_ from him?” she questioned harshly. “What could you possibly want from him?”

Eisa didn’t have to think at all as the lie easily slipped off their tongue, “He has an offshore bank account. I’m trying to get the digits so I can access it.”

“We have connections to get us that shit, Snart. What game are you playing at?” Mick brought up with a flat face, his only facial movement being him grinding his teeth together.

A small tongue click, “I already _tried that,_ Mick. They came up with nothing.”

“What do you need the money for so badly that you would ask _him_ for help?” Lisa asked, her frown deepening.

Eisa shook their head, hand hiddenly gripping his side of the handle tighter, “We _both_ know I don’t do all of this shit for the money. It’s all for the _game.”_

“And what game’s that?” Constantine questioned, shoving his hand into his jacket pocket.

The demon sent an instinctual glare in John’s direction, “Strategizing to get what the hell I _want. That’s_ the game, and I’m _good at it.”_

“And how’s about that demon, then?” the exorcist prompted, watching the villain.

_“Working on it,”_ was the only answer Eisa gave him, making a move to slam the door closed instead of talking to them any longer.

John muttered something underneath his breath, the door sticking before the demon could close it fully.

“Let’s light this warehouse on fire,” Mick supplied loudly, Eisa and Len hearing it easily as the pyro held his gun up. “It’ll get _both_ Snarts out to _talk.”_

“Don’t be an idiot,” Lisa scolded, holding up her own gun. “We light the place _with_ dad in it.”

Constantine pressed his hand against the door, pushing it open further, huffing to the other two, “Nobody’s lighting anything on bloody _fire.”_

“What do we do then, little man?” the arsonist questioned, looking down at John skeptically.

“We go inside, obviously,” he replied, gesturing for the two to enter the house before him.

There was a string of blue light that nearly clipped them, Eisa having pulled the cold gun’s trigger from halfway across the room, “You guys really don’t know when to fucking quit, huh?”

“Lenny, what the hell is going on?” Lisa demanded, looking between the exorcist and her brother.

“I’m done with all this _bullshit,”_ the demon nearly spat, aiming the gun directly at Lisa now. “Do you want _more_ blood on your hands, _John?_ We both know your _mistakes.”_

Constantine scoffed, “As if _you’re_ an angel yourself, huh? What should I call you? Since you’re borrowing a face.”

“Eisarasim the _Venerated,”_ was the easy reply, the demon doing a small bow as if to show off. “No need to tell me your names, _Len_ already supplied them to me~”

Lisa interrupted the two, holding up her hand, “Hang on. _This_ is the demon problem? My fucking _brother?”_

“That’s something John _wants_ to do, yes, but I wouldn’t call _myself_ a problem,” Eisa held the gun up again, finger twitching on the trigger.

“TMI,” Mick grumbled out, raising his own heat gun toward the demon before stating confidently, “Snart would _want_ to die if this happened. I’ll get ‘im.”

The exorcist let out a frustrated breath, “Put the gun down, already. _I’m_ here for a reason.” Holding a hand out in front of him, the blond spoke a few words, a soft glow coming from his palm for a moment as he reached into his jacket with his free hand. Pulling out a length of rope, he tossed it toward the woman, nearly missing her completely.

Lisa grabbed the rope out of the air, looking between the demon and the demonologist again, _“That’s_ what this is for?”

“You _really_ think that shit is gonna _work?”_ the demon asked cynically, making a move to blast the floor with ice instead, making everything slippery. Constantine held both hands out in front of him, focusing on maintaining the spell to limit the demon’s movements. 

Watching as the demon squirmed as if they were being restrained, Mick looked down at the rope, “We gotta tie him up now? _That’s_ your plan?”

“If you want to get out of this alive, do what I say,” John huffed through gritted teeth.

“Don’t do it, Mick,” Eisa chimed in, stopping their struggle as if they weren’t worried anymore, “Imagine all the _fun_ we can have now that I have a demon on our side, hm? All the _terrorizing_ we can do together~”

Lisa glared at the demon, threatening, “Get your scaly demon ass out of my brother before this gets ugly.”

Mick thought about the proposal for a second before shaking his head with a sigh, grabbing the other end of the rope to help Lisa restrain the demon.

“Says the _useless_ little sister who didn’t do jack _shit_ for her hardworking brother her whole fucking life until _now,”_ Eisa singsonged, looking not all that worried when the arsonist tied the rope around their wrists.

The woman’s jaw visibly clenched, “At least I’m doing something for him right _now.”_ She punctuated her statement by wrapping the rope around the demon’s arms, pinning them to their sides.

“Have you ever thought about if he even _wanted_ to be saved?” Eisa questioned seriously, rolling his eyes as Mick took the gun away from him. “If _I_ had to spend my whole fucking life handling _you two,_ I would’ve killed myself a long time ago~”

“I’m an exorcist and you’re a nasty demon,” Constantine replied, rolling his eyes. “Doesn’t matter who your host is, mate. I’m getting rid of you no matter what.”

“I thought you didn’t like having _attachments_ to people, Johnny boy,” the demon commented lowly, weakly tugging at the rope that forced their wrists together. “Seems to me that you got _soft~_ I might as well fix that if you’re gonna send me away~”

The demonologist narrowed his eyes, leveling the creature with a cold look, “If you’ve heard anything about me, then you know what I’m capable of. If it comes down to it, I won’t hesitate.”

“You’re not the only one with cards up their sleeves, _kid,”_ Eisa replied darkly, the common nickname being said in a mocking tone.

“I’ve got more than cards up my sleeves,” the exorcist responded, pulling a small metal device from his sleeve and flicking it toward the restrained demon.

Flinching at the droplets that landed on their skin as if they had been burned, the demon immediately sent a glare in John’s direction, “You really think _that’s_ going to do _anything?”_

“Not as much as the _exorcism_ will, mate.”

* * *

  
  


Constantine’s two tag-alongs secured the demon to a nearby chair, the armrests obscured by layers of tightly wrapped rope. Mick seemed perfectly content with the situation, while Lisa seemed more than a little uncomfortable tying her brother to a chair. The exorcist looked away from the scene, instead running through a few banishing incantations in his head.

Knowing the demon’s name was a huge advantage, the gift suggesting that the demon hadn’t had much time on the surface compared to others he had had the misfortune to meet - though that was possibly the other way around. Now, he only needed to tailor the spells he knew to better fit the demon in front of him. It was a task easier said than done, but the longer he took, the more dangerous the exorcism would be.

“Let’s get this shit over with,” Lisa interrupted, looking at her brother with more open concern than she had before.

“I think we should have our fun. It’s not every day we see a demon like this, and it’s not like he’s gonna fucking _die,”_ Mick said easily, looking down at the smirking Eisa with something akin to amazement.

John decided not to correct the other, pulling a cross from his pocket and holding it out toward the secured demon. While he had a name, he still didn’t know which methods would be the most effective. Exorcism was a quarter magic, a quarter trial-and-error, and half luck.

“Thinking about the last time you screwed an exorcism up, aren’t cha? That isn’t surprising~” Eisa singsonged, tugging at their bonds as if to test how tight they were. “Thinkin’ about that little _girl, hm?”_

_“Don’t_ bring her into this,” Constantine snapped, pressing the holy object closer to test for a reaction.

“Are you scared you’re gonna do the same shit this time? You probably _will,_ honestly, looking at your _record,”_ the demon smiled, leaning back into the chair. “Or, _maybe,_ you’ll screw it up even _worse_ this time! Let’s see what ya’ do, Johnny Boy~!”

The warlock took in a sharp breath, gritting his teeth as he tucked the cross back into his coat. Since holy water had gotten a reaction before, he sprayed the creature again; both to buy time to prepare the incantation as well as to gain a twisted sort of revenge.

Hissing loudly at the water hitting their skin again, Eisa sent a sharp glare his way, “You _really_ don’t wanna lose another one, huh? _How_ many has it been now? _Twelve? Twenty?_ ”

Constantine began speaking lowly, the Latin phrases familiar as he held his hands out in front of him to better direct his magic. Given the demon’s earlier responses, the exorcist knew which combination of phrases would be the most powerful against the particular creature in the chair. He pushed his magic outward, feeling the slow drain as his palms gave off light.

Eisa let out a scream as they tried to jostle themselves out of the chair, nearly throwing it backward before Mick stopped it from doing so, questioning forcefully, “How does it feel being _weak?_ You try too _hard_ to save people just for them to fucking _die_ because of you, John~! If they never fucking knew your shitty _face, all of them would be alive!”_

The exorcist took a deep breath, forcing his feelings down. It was familiar enough of an ache in his chest that it hardly felt different than normal. He focused his energy on his spell, chanting louder and shoving his magic outward with more force. While his magic listened to him, he felt like it was hitting a wall, his incantations doing no more damage than they already had. Constantine nearly cursed himself with the realisation; he hadn’t checked the rest of the building. The demon must’ve been more resourceful than he had thought, if it had prepared for his arrival. He took a moment, scanning over the villain-turned-demon, noticing the slice along his forearm. _Bingo._

The exorcist glanced around the room, noticing bloody markings on the wall that hadn’t originally been visible. Constantine apparently couldn’t go a damn minute without committing a fatal blunder. Runes compiled, forming a roadblock against the offending magic. In this case, he was on offence and the defence was stronger than he had been expecting. If everyone in the room was going to make it out, those runes would need to go.

“Lisa,” he called, grabbing the woman’s attention. “I need you to destroy those symbols on the walls.”

The female looked over in his direction questioningly, raising an eyebrow, “How would I go about that? Is there something special I need to do?”

“Nothin’ special, just scratch ‘em up,” Constantine replied with a shrug.

Lisa scoffed lightly but otherwise turned toward one of the symbols, “You’re lucky this is for my brother and not anyone else because I wouldn’t ruin my manicure for _anyone.”_

The exorcist let out a sigh, reminding himself not to mess with a tough bird like her in the future, before returning his full attention to the demon in front of him. “Eisarasim,” he said, addressing the entity while purposely leaving off its title, “what brought you to the surface, huh? Why bargain for a vessel when you’ve never been topside before?”

Looking up toward the exorcist without concern, the demon tilted their head to the side cockily, “Why would I tell _you?_ It’s bigger than me.”

“There’s a _lot_ bigger than _you,_ mate. Including me,” Constantine huffed in response, narrowing his eyes as he began channeling his magic with more force, reaching farther now that the symbols were being dealt with.

“I don’t think you fully understand what I am _saying,_ John.”

“Then what _are_ you saying?” the blond asked suspiciously.

Humming lowly, they relaxed into the uncomfortable chair as much as they could, “I’m not the only demon sent up here.”

The warlock rolled his eyes for show, “Then I’ll just have to take care of them too, won't I?”

A small laugh, “How many of us do you think there are?”

“Doesn’t right matter, does it? Job’s never done,” he huffed, engaging the creature if only to divert its attention.

Blue eyes glanced over toward Lisa knowingly before they looked back over toward John, “Are you sure those are the only defenses I put up, John~?”

Constantine frowned at the demon, considering the notion. “I’m sure. I’d have sensed it otherwise. Warlock and all that,” he stated calmly, despite the fact that he wasn’t entirely sure. He had been too distracted to notice the symbols at first, Powers Above only knew what else had given him the slip.

“You’re questioning it now, aren’t you? I may have never gone up to the surface before, but I’m not fucking _stupid.”_

“Demons aren’t known for their brains, mate. Exorcists on the other hand...” he trailed off, letting his sentence finish itself.

“Exorcists are only demons in the making~ We all end up in the same _place.”_

Constantine stared the demon down for a moment before replying lowly, “You’d better hope we don’t meet again in Hell, or I’ll do a lot worse than I can topside.”

The proceedings took place in regular time, though the exorcist already felt the moments blurring together in his mind. His focus on the task never wavered, even if he could hardly process a thought aside from the Latin he was repeating. When the mystical darkness in the room finally cleared, he felt the strain of standing, his knees shaking just enough for him to notice. With the last wisp of power in his hand, he did a cursory search of the building, finding none of the demonic energy he had sensed earlier. Dropping his hands, the exorcist slipped them into his pockets, watching the villain’s form intently. The other two people in the room may have spoken, but Constantine could hardly hear anything over the beat of his heart, far too loud in his head.

It felt like minutes before the man showed any sign of life, head tilting itself upward as blue eyes groggily blinked open. Glancing downward at the rope keeping him strapped down on the chair, Len looked over toward the group of people a couple of feet in front of him and said with his usual drawl, “I may be into bondage, but I’m _really_ not in the mood right now.”

Stomping up toward her brother before smacking the back of his head, Lisa stated firmly, _“Never_ do that again, Lenny. That was fucking awful, alright?”

Mick watched the assault idly, crossing his arms over his chest as if he were bored, “I thought this was a _great_ time, but I guess we’re not asking about what _I_ want.”

“You want the world to go up in flames, Mick, I don’t think you get an opinion here,” Len sighed out tiredly with a roll to his eyes, glancing down at the rope pointedly. “Take these off me so we can get going, Lis’.”

Constantine watched them interact, slowly slipping closer and closer to the wall. Finally, the sound became muffled as he used a little magic, transporting himself from the room entirely. On the outside of the building, he took a moment to catch his breath, the slight overuse of power leaving behind an ache like overtired muscles. Leaning his head against the wall, he pulled a cigarette from his pocket and placed it between his lips without lighting it. The promise of nicotine was enough, grounding him in a way nothing else could.

Having lingered in the area for far too long already, the warlock removed his weight from the building behind him, slipping his hands into his pockets as he started a long trek to the next town over - not having enough magic to teleport and not having enough sociability to charm his way into a decent hotel. Letting out a breath he wished was smoke, Constantine continued walking, not sparing a glance behind him.

  
After a stunt like _that,_ the exorcist could use a little space.

**Author's Note:**

> Here's part three of the series, and part four is in the works! Thank you for waiting!


End file.
